Baby, It's Cold Outside
by Silindro
Summary: Oneshot. Christmas brings enough snow for Miroku to teach his son how to build the perfect snowman. Sango watches and reflects.


Standard disclaimers apply.

_Personification of Fluff, this one's for you._

**Baby, It's Cold Outside** ---

Standing outside in the falling snow, Sango couldn't help but wonder if she was crazy. It was freezing and the thick white blanket of snow was quickly piling up to be thicker than some of the mountain snow through which she had traveled on some of her journeys when she had been younger. It was beautiful to watch, even if it was a bit risky for her health.

She pulled the heavy blanket more securely around her shoulders and leaned back a bit against the wall. Her toes were beginning to feel the cold, wet sting of the snow through her boots. Everything about the weather was telling her to go inside away from the terrible wintry conditions, but she just couldn't break away from watching the two most important men in her life playing together in the snow.

Standing with a stick in one hand and a ball of snow in the other, Miroku looked every bit the skilled craftsman as he showed their young son the best way to construct a snowman. Sango couldn't help but smile as the little boy watched every move his father made with careful concentration. He was at the hero-worship stage it seemed, and Miroku was enjoying every moment that he could get.

The little boy, Mitsuya, was working diligently on his own miniature snowman just off to the side of his father. It was shorter, much sloppier, and only constructed out of two snowballs instead of the usual three. He was packing snow around the middle to hold to pieces together, just as his father had advised. It was a perfect first-try snowman given that he was only five and could barely lift the head to make a second piece for the sculpture.

Silently Sango thanked Kagome for what the girl had called 'Christmas gifts'. The heavy coat that her son wore was much more likely to protect him from the cold weather, and the gloves were effective in keeping his hands from getting too cold while playing in the snow. Miroku also wore a pair of gloves to protect his hands. They were generous gifts that Sango had accepted with many thanks as the temperatures had dropped and a promise of snow had been in the air.

Her friend had left the Sengoku Jidai in favor of her modern day home to spend some extra time with her family given that she lived full-time in the past. It was quiet without her and Inuyasha around, but just occasionally the silence was a blessing given that it meant less of a chance for Mitsuya to hear words that his mother would rather he not repeat.

"Like this," Miroku laughed as he knelt to help his son pack more snow around the base of the snowman. It was a two-day work in progress. Neither parent was willing to let their little boy spend too much time outside in the cold with the chance that he could get sick. Even Sango hadn't ventured outside much since the day before.

"Is he tall enough?"

"He's as tall as you are! That's good enough for me," Miroku nodded. "He's just missing his face."

Miroku rummaged around in his pockets until he pulled out a small pouch that he proudly announced was full of stones. Sango remembered him having gone down to the river at the first sign of snow to gather the rocks for just such an occasion. He had been excited because it was the first time his son would see substantial amounts of snow and he wanted to enjoy the opportunity to the fullest.

Ever since becoming a father Miroku had been ever bit the attentive father that he had promised to be from the moment that Sango had announced the news that the much-wanted heir was on the way. She remembered that day fondly. Most of all she remembered the following months and how she hadn't been able to walk a step without a worried father-to-be following behind.

All of the stress and fighting had been worth it in the end, though. She couldn't remember a time when she had ever been happier. Although her family had been torn apart by Naraku, Miroku had done the best job of making a new family for her to love. Everything they had ever fought for had been worth it in the end.

"Your snowman doesn't have a nose!" Mitsuya laughed as Miroku began to push the rocks into the snowman's face. He used two of the stones for eyes and another six or seven for a makeshift mouth.

"You're not going to have a nose either if you don't come inside soon," Sango warned lightly. "It's getting a bit late for you boys to be out."

"But we're not finished!" Mitsuya whined as he reached for more snow to shovel on the misshapen snowman.

"Yeah Mom, we're not done," Miroku grinned.

Sango narrowed her eyes at her husband, conveying all of the sadistic things she could do to him with one evil glint. It was a look with which he was quite familiar in their years of marriage. Of course he knew she wouldn't go so far as to do anything to him. The few times she had even tried to enact vengeance on his mischievousness ways had only played to his favor. And it was entirely possible that Mitsuya was the product of such ill-thought out retributions.

"Well if you don't want any hot cocoa then go ahead and finish your snowmen," she said nonchalantly as she turned to go inside. "I'll be sure to cancel dinner too."

"We'll finish up tomorrow," Miroku promised as he pushed his son toward the door. Of course at the mention of hot cocoa Mitsuya had already been half-convinced to go inside anyway. It was a matter of getting the boy to drop his snowball and walk away from the project.

Miroku held the door flap open for his family before going inside himself. He shook off the snow on his jacket and laid it on the bench next to the door where it could drip and dry without getting the rest of the home messy. He stepped out of his shoes there as well, leaving them next to his son's snow boots that had obviously been kicked off in a hurry to get to the promised chocolate drink.

A warm cup was placed into his hands as he moved over to the center of the room where the other two were sitting quietly around the fire. Sango was tending to the pot of boiling rice while his son sipped on his own smaller cup of cocoa. Obviously they would be asking Kagome for another jar of the drink mixture since theirs was half gone after only a week of having it.

"You boys were hard at work out there," Sango commented.

"Building snowmen is a tough job," Miroku said. "It takes a master to create a perfect work of art."

"A man of many trades, I see."

"Well one can't help it when one is very talented," he replied smugly.

"You were always best at running your mouth," she grinned.

"Well I talked you into loving me, didn't I?"

A blush crept up on Sango's cheeks as she knew she'd been outspoken. There was no point in arguing something that she knew was true. And why would she argue his point anyway? They had been married nearly seven years and she was still as in love with him then as she had been in the days of Naraku.

"Just eat your rice," she commanded, pushing a bowl into his hand.

Mitsuya took his own bowl of rice and began to eat with fervor as if he hadn't seen food in weeks. She had repeatedly told him that he should slow down and chew, but after a while she had realized that her words were constantly falling on deaf ears. Besides, Miroku had reminded her that he was a growing boy and one day his eating habits would even themselves out.

Sometimes she wondered when she had ever learned to be a parent. She had never been the motherly type to begin with, and without a mother in her life there was no one else to look up to for advice. It wasn't easy having someone always depending on you to survive. But with Miroku's help their son seemed to be walking along the right path, even if it was an unsure one.

"Do we get to finish the snowmen tomorrow?" Mitsuya asked as he finished off his last few bites of rice.

Sango nodded while glancing over at Miroku. It seemed that he was as anxious to hear her response as Mitsuya was. Despite being a fully functioning adult, he still relied on her decision making skills in all things family related. When he made the promise to honor and obey he stuck with it.

Excited at the prospect of another day of hard play outside doing something that he genuinely enjoyed doing, Mitsuya ran into the other room and grabbed a large pouch full of small wooden carved figures of animals to play with. He dumped them out in the corner and began to amuse himself out of the way of his parents who then seemed content to quietly take pleasure in each other's company.

"He's a good boy," Miroku said while running his fingers through Sango's long brown hair. She had stretched out on the floor with her head in his lap as she sometimes did in the evenings when it suited her.

"Much better than his father," Sango laughed quietly.

"Certainly better looking," he added. "He looks like his mother after all."

"After all these years you still know just what to say."

"I'd bend down and kiss you but this ailing old back wouldn't be able to take it," he said with a playful smirk.

"Be careful, old man. If your back is that bad then I'll be sure to keep you away from any strenuous activities that might cause further injury."

"Well it isn't my fault you like to play rough."

Miroku wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her up to waiting lips. Although she had been resistant to his physical affections during the days of their 'courtship', Sango had quickly warmed up to him in the days after. If anything she was more of an instigator than he had ever hoped for. And he never got sick of her lips.

Off in the corner Mitsuya turned his back to his parents as he often did. It was true that his parents showed the fondness for each other that many of the villagers never seemed to show for their own spouses. And even though it was good to know his parents were still in love, he didn't want to see it.

So after playing for a short while Mitsuya picked up his figures and proclaimed that he was going to bed. With all the work that they still had to finish on their snowmen it was going to be a long day of sculpting as soon as his mother would let him and his father outside. Hopefully it would be shortly after breakfast since his mother always woke him early to get a start on the day.

After tucking Mitsuya in to bed, Miroku returned back to the side of the fire with his own shared bed roll that he and Sango had taken to putting in the main room for privacy. Their home wasn't large and they had to make due with what they had. Not that either minded sharing the space. After all they had been through they knew they were lucky enough to have anything at all.

Sango crawled under the heavy blanket and waited for Miroku to crawl in next to her.

"You look like something's on your mind," he said curiously while propping his head up on his hand.

"Why is Mitsuya so intent on building snowmen?"

"He wants to make a snowman family just like ours," he answered. "Tomorrow we're supposed to make you."

"Well I'm glad that's not me out there that you were working on today," she chuckled.

"You wound my pride," he said, covering his heart with his hand. "We've been working so hard on those two for days!"

"And I love them," she said, lifting herself up to steal a kiss. She lingered a bit longer on his lips than a normal kiss, which Miroku took as a good sign. His hands had already begun to wander.

"But it's taking you so long for these three that I'm worried," she said suddenly, stopping him.

"What's there to worry about?"

"You'll have made three snowmen in three days. You're going to have to learn to make snowmen faster if you don't want to stay outside and get sick. Especially since you'll have an extra snowman to make next year…"

"Sango?" he said breathlessly, his hand paused over her stomach.

"Merry Christmas, Houshi-sama," she whispered contentedly against his shocked, speechless lips.

--- --- ---

A/n: You wanted a warm, feel-good story and here it is. Hopefully you enjoyed it. Happy Holidays!

**_Silent readers go to the eighth circle of fanfiction Hell. Review!_** _(How's that for Christmas spirit?)_


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